American Crazychick Witch
by Fireblazezz
Summary: The lively, bubbly and immodest grandchild of a past-70-something granny witch is going to Hogwarts for the first time ever! The little troublemaker will undoubtedly handle that just great... Rated T for swears and randoms and possible upcoming romance. OC x Hogwarts students and possible OC x Draco Malfoy. Please read and review! Failed humor attempt.
1. Jacqueline Echoleanne (mm) Chenoweth

So this is me:

Age: 11

Height: 158 cm

Weight: Dude, that's personal.

Appearance: Well, you know… I'm the kind of chick that people pick at, just because I don't wear the latest fashion clothes, no make-up and shit like that. And it might be my hair too, cuz it's like… the neutral space between brown and light yellow-orange… really weird colour, actually, and it's kinda thick and sometimes I make it fluffy. And it might be my eyes fault too, people think they're weird, but I dunno why, I've seen lots of weirder eyes; mine are like – from afar – they look like light brown, but if you look closer – which nobody does – you'll see that they are actually a mix between brown, yellow and even a little green! They kind of colour you get when one of your parents have blue eyes and the other one has super dark brown eyes. And people _miiiight _disapprove of me because of my personality…

So anyway, I'm average height, average hair length, though, right now I'm wearing it in a high ponytail cuz it looks so badass. And average temper (lie), average boobs and fair skin and whatever. Not all fair, cuz I got a tan, ya know. Today my clothing consists of super short jeans, red running shoes, black leg warmers, a red tank top with the yellow embroidery "FREEDOM", black arm warmers and Granny's handmade red-and-yellow scarf that smells like polka (I wear it because it's chilly today.) And of course I carry along my big fat trunk full of my own stuff that I'm taking with me to Hogwarts.

I have no parents, I live with my grandma who is one crazy hell of an old lady – she's really awesome and nice and kind and caring and cool and I love her – and her name's Brooklyn Charity Dominique Deborah – and a lot of other name's I don't remember – Chenoweth, and she's also the one who gave me all of my weird but awesome middle names that I won't rabble right now. But anyways, here's the thing: My grandma's a witch, and ever since I was a kid, even baby, she's been telling me stories about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I am absolutely possessed by the thought of me actually going there, now, this year, this day in four hours. Anyway, both of my parents were Mugglers, and I dunno if that makes me a Muggle-born… but my Granny isn't a Muggler… I'm quartz witch!

Now, I am supposed to meet Granny here at this bar that I am standing in right now, cuz she wanted to stay at home for an hour longer since it was the Olympic Games Live on TV (By the way, we rent a house in England right now, just because of this event. We are actually Americans.) It seems like I'm a little early, though, cuz I can't see her anywhere, only a lot of drunk people.

Oh yeah, you should know this too: My name is…

"Jacqueline Echo Chenoweth? That is your name, miss?" asks the bartender behind the counter.

"Yes. Unless you wanna hear all my middle names." I say.

"N-no, that's alright." The guy hurriedly replies and adjusts his huge spectacles, as if uncomfortable with the situation.

"You sure? Cuz they're all real, I swear."

"I hear you, little missy, but I don't need to hear any of your names, (which I assume are really weird.)" The guy ignores me and just waves his hand at me as an offending sign.

"Fine, I still don't get why you need to know my name in the first place – anyway, can I have my juice now?" I add quickly and look at the bartender with a demanding look in my eyes.

"Sure, missy." The guy mutters and disappears behind his desk and reappears a few seconds later with a big glass of mango banana orange juice.

"'preciate it, man." I sneer gratefully; grab the glass and try to find an empty seat among all these drunks. I find one next to a window and sit down, slurping my juice while people-watching, both outside and inside, and I find it amusing to listen to people's British accent. I occasionally tap my fingers at the tables while I glare at the big clock on the brown wooden wall. _Oh, my god, where is Granny? _I ask myself for the fifty-eleventh time as I lay flat across the table and groan into it. I almost banged my head into it when I felt a pointy thing poke my waist.

"_Gryyagh!" _I always make weird noises when something tickly or uncomfortable touches me. "Granny!" I exclaim happily as I spin around and hop into her arms. I notice that she wears her fancy bear pelt jacket and a pair of brown tights and black high heels. And of course her huge, brown pirate-like hat with a feather on top. "Yur _late." _I point out as I break the hug and point an index finger at her somewhat crooked nose.

"GAH, don't be such a pothead, I'm not late!" she retorts and gives me a smirk. "A witch is never too late and never too early. She appears exactly when and where she intends too."

"You just stole that line from the Lord of the Rings."

"Whatever you say, kid." She laughs/cackles. "Anyway, let me just grab some sake before we leave." She adds and walks over to the bartender.

"Going to where? Diagon Alley?!" I ask excitedly as I follow her.

"Of course, if ye don't wanna miss the train before we get the stuff you need – hey, you! Gimme a bottle of sake, will ya?" she adds and points her stick at the bartender who dives down behind the disk again. Granny and me leave as soon as Gran's order appears on the desk.

She shows me the magic way to Diagon Alley, and there I am completely baffled by what I see.

"Oh. My. God. Hell. This. Is. Like. A.W.E.S.O.M.E!" I freak out as I just stare blankly into the streets and probably look like some idiot. I can feel my heart beat faster in my chest. "Granny, I love this."

"Yes, I felt – and looked – just like you when I saw this alley for the first time." Granny chuckled. "Now – take these…" she gave me a bunch of gold coins. "And immediately go and buy yourself a wand at Mr. Ollivander's. I will take care of your broom and the books and the rest of the stuff you need. But getting your own wand is one hell of an experience…" she adds and gives me a shrewd smile.

"Thanks, Gran." I say warmly and smile back. "I'll see you at the King's Cross!" I shout over my shoulder as I race down the cobble stoned streets towards Ollivander's wand shop. And since I was running in 180 miles per hour, I reached the shop soon enough and walked inside, too busy to even look at the wands at display.

"Hello…?" I ask loudly as I peek around in the shop. I stop dead to stare at the boxes stored in the huge shelves which I assume are filled with wands, and I open my mouth in admiration. "Wow, these shelves are _huge…!" _I mouthed the last word and continue to stare upwards until my neck starts to hurt.

The sound of a man clearing his throat causes me to spin around, and I find a fairly old man with a gentle smile on his lips standing a few meters away from me. Unsure what to do, I carefully raise my hand after a while and give him a wave. "Hi, sir."

"Good evening to you, miss." He greets me politely and walks up to me. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, well… I was kinda looking for a wand _– obviously – _and I assume that's what most of your costumers want, right?" I reply, hoping that I didn't sound too rude.

But the man – who I assume is Mr. Ollivander – just chuckles gently and approaches one of the shelves. "Yes, indeed, but I find it amusing to ask my costumers nonetheless."

"No kidding."

"You seem to be quite an immodest little girl." Mr. Ollivander calls from somewhere as he disappears up on a ladder. "I think I have a few wands that you should try out…"

And after a few attempts – after I blasted half of the poor wand seller's shop to bits because of my lack of talent and maybe lack of trust in the wands I held – I stand on the floor with a pretty, long and pointy brown wand in my hand, and I swear I can feel a sudden change of atmosphere.

"I like this one." I finally say after standing in silence for several seconds.

"And it would seem as if it likes you too." Mr. Ollivander says.

"I'll take it." I say as I root around in my pockets for the money Granny gave me. "Thanks a lot, sir!" I say enthusiastically to the man after giving him a few gold coins, and then I march outside with my spirits high and a big smile on my lips. I won't take my eyes off the wand. I turn and twist it in my hands as I walk and I am so engrossed in its elegance that I don't watch myself and walk straight into someone's back.

"_Mph! Wmwi. (Uph! Sorry.)" _I mutter as I take a step back and rub my nose.

"Watch it, you dimwit!" the angry person whom I ran into – apparently he's a blond boy about my age – hiss at me before strutting away past a few adults dressed in black – all of them blond – that cast disapproving glances at me before following the blond kid.

"Jeez, what the hell is _his _problem…?" I mutter as I continue to rob my nose and watch them leave.

"There you are!" I hear a familiar voice call, and I turn around and see my grandma hurrying over to me in quick pace, dragging along my big fat trunk that looks even bigger and fatter now, plus – oh, god, yes, yes, _yes! _– a broom in a firm grip.

"Oooooh, you've got my broom!" I exclaim happily and reach out for it.

"Yes, but you have to hurry now, or else you'll miss the train!"

"Yes, but can I have my broom fi – WHAT?!" I gasp with a suddenly horrified look on my face.

"_Yes! _Come on now!" Granny says impatiently as she waves me along with her down the street to the King's Cross train station. I don't even have time to call out in shock and amusement when we run straight through the metal ticket box that divides platform Nine and Ten, and reach platform Nine and Three-Quarters where we slow down to catch our breaths. But I barely manage to reclaim half of my needed oxygen as my mouth fell down to the ground in admiration and aspiration as my eyes fell upon the huge, steam-spewing train in front of me.

"Oh… my… god…!" I whisper. "Is that…?"

"The Hogwarts Express, yes." Granny finishes for me and hugs me from behind as she whispers into my ear: "You'd better get on."

I smile and nod at her, and then I grab my trunk and enter the train. A weird feeling rushes through me as I take my feet off of the platform. I suppose I simply can't believe that I am actually on the train that will take me to _Hogwarts. _

"Remember to send me letters!" Granny calls out to me. "Eight times a week! At least!"

"I promise!" I shout back, but I'm not sure if she hears me, because the whistle screeches just at that moment, and then the train starts to move.

"Do your best in everything!" Granny shouts, louder than all the other people on the platform. "And just tell me if someone bullies you and I will come right over and give them a piece of my stick!" she shouts and waves her stick high up in the air. "See ya later, Jackie!"

I really hope that she sees me wave goodbye to her through the open window, although all my goodbye-cries are drowned by the sounds of the train. I stick my head back and then I push my heavy trunk to the back of the train where the other trunks are lying, and I take one last look at the world I'm about to leave.

_Oh, boy, this sure as hell is gonna be some awesome experience, _I think happily to myself as I turn around to look back into the train. Well, I might as well try to find an empty seat now…


	2. Glasses, Ginger and Albino

"But for god's sake – _How _can ther'be _SO MANY FRIGGIN' _people on this goddamn train?!" I exclaim furiously after loosing my – kind of short – temper. I have searched the whole friggin' train to find an empty compartment, but they are all occupied. I nonchalantly keep pressing on through the crowd although I feel the other passengers' annoyed eyes in my back for being so loudmouthed, but who are they to judge?

"Jeez, I'll be lucky if I ever find my own trunk…" I trailed off in my muttering as I saw three boys standing by an open compartment a few meters in front of me, and I very well recognize the pale blonde-haired one in the middle; the guy I ran into in the Diagon Alley. He don't seem to be the nicest guy as far as I know, but the compartment looked like it wasn't fully occupied – thank god, _finally – _so I raise my fist in triumph before I march towards it.

When I got closer, it sounded like the albino boy was picking a fight with the people inside, but I am stopped by the thick crowd in the cramped passage before I can clarify the situation.

"My god –!" I mutter as I try to force my way pass the people, but it appears to be harder than I thought it would be.

"… think my name's funny, do you? Well, I don't even need to ask what _your _name…" I hear the blonde boy retort mockingly to something that someone in the compartment said, something that I didn't catch because of the incredibly loudmouthed people on this train.

"'scuse me…" I mutter as I poke a fat guy in the belly in front of me to make him step aside, and now I am finally able to hear the boy's voices in the compartment.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter." The blonde boy says to someone. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

And there is a short pause before another voice replies coolly: "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

_Oh, snap! _

Another pause, and I bet the blonde kid's face is red.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter." The blonde boy says slowly. "Unless you're a bit more politer you'll go the same way as your parents."

Maybe that Potter-one is an orphan?

"They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you." He adds coolly, and the next second I hear sudden sounds of motion inside, and I bet he provoked the people inside hard enough so they would pick a fight with him and his two fat and ugly bodyguard-boys.

"Oh, you're gonna fight us, are you?" the blonde kid teases.

"Unless you leave now." The one I recognize as Potter says.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

"Oh, my god. Watch your ego, Albino." I cock and eyebrow at him as I poke him in the neck after I finally got to their compartment.

"What the…?" he hisses and spins around, and the moment he sees me, recognition flickers in his grey eyes. He seems to remember that he met me before, and he doesn't look very pleased.

"What? You gonna propose?" I say after a while when he's been staring at me long enough. That seems to wake a few brain cells in his head and his face expression goes back to the cold casual one. His fat buddies keep quiet and don't interfere, looking rather uncomfortable. Albino disses me and turns to the two boys that he was fighting with.

"Remember what I said, Potter." He says coolly to one of the two boys, a boy with dark shaggy hair and glasses. "And you'd better watch yourself." He adds to me, and his shoulder nudges mine as he passes by.

"_Byebye~" _I reply kindly as he and his two buds march off. Then I turn to the two boys standing in the compartment looking pretty dumbstruck. "So, mind if I sit here?" I ask. "Everywhere else is full."

They blink a few times and I start considering repeating my question when they get over themselves and nod. "Yeah, sure."

So I take a seat opposite them. Awkward silence.

"Who are you, by the way?" I ask politely after shifting to a comfortable position, taking up pretty much all space on my side.

"Me? I'm Ron. Ron Weasley." Says the red-haired boy with freckles. "And this –" he blurts out, pointing at the boy with glasses. "This is Harry Potter!"

Silence. Doesn't ring a bell.

"Who's Harry Potter?" I ask a little confused, and I realize that I must've sounded pretty dumb, because Ron stares at me as if I had serious problems.

"You're kidding, right?" he says, shocked. "_Harry Potter. _The Boy Who Lived? The boy who survived after being cursed by You-Know-Who? The boy with the lightning scar?"

"… _Oh, yeah! _That's right, now I remember…" I say as I nod all-knowingly to defend my case. I think I remember vaguely that Granny told me something like that, about the Boy Who Lived, but I didn't actually pay very much attention at the time, so leave it to me to forget things like that.

"Well, nice to meet you." Is all I say. "I'm Jacqueline Echoleanne (lots of middle names) Chenoweth. People call me Jack or Jackie." I add when I see their face expressions. I always register myself as Jacqueline _Echo _Chenoweth, though, because apparently people think that "Echoleanne" is a weird name and that Echo is much prettier. At least that's what my mother thought when she was still alive (according to Granny.)

Suddenly the door slides open and a girl with lots of bushy brown hair enters. She places her hands on her hips and cocks an eyebrow at Harry and Ron, and I assume that they've met her before.

"What has been going on here?" she asks. "I could hear your voices from all across the train!"

"Nothin'…" Ron mutters, and I just happen to notice that he's holding something furry in his hand, possibly a rat. The thought makes me frown; I don't really care for rats. I like ferrets though.

"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asks Harry.

"Yeah, in Diagon Alley." Harry answers.

"You met that kid in Diagon Alley too?" I blurt out.

"You met him too?"

"Yeah, well, I sort of… _ran into _him." I cough innocently. "Who is he, by the way?"

Ron explains about how he and his family came back to our side after the You-Know-Who guy – Voldemort, right? – disappeared and they claimed to be bewitched, but that's obviously bullshit.

"And that's pretty much it." Ron turns to the bushy-haired girl. "Can we help you with something?"

"Yeah, you should put your robes on. I've just been up the front asking the driver and he says we're nearly there."

"Right. Do you mind leaving while we change?" Ron replies, and the girl scowls at him before leaving.

"Wow, what a sniffy one." I mutter when she's out of earshot.

"You leave too."

"Right."

I had been very excited up till now, trembling with nerves when I saw the fleet of small boats by the shore of a great black lake. Unfortunately Harry, Ron, the bushy-haired girl whose name I learned was Hermione Granger and a rather large boy with a toad named Neville Longbottom occupied their own boat, and I was unable to go with them. So now I'm sitting in another boat with two total strangers, and probably the person I want to share a boat with least: Draco Malfoy.

Not that much of a problem though, since he just sits there in absolute silence with his arms crossed. But he keeps casting nasty glances at me when he thinks I'm not looking, and that's not very funny.

When he's been doing this for like five minutes I get really pissed because he's being very impolite, and I slam my fists onto the railing and spin around and glare at him. "_Oh, _my _god! What _is your problem?" I exclaim with my eyebrows raised. "Have you never seen a – incredibly mature and pretty and wise – woman before? You're being very impolite." My brows sink together into a frown – rather childish –, as I wait for his reply.

Draco just sits there and glares at me as if I am from another planet. "What is _your _problem?" he retorts with a disturbed expression. "I have not, and will never have, any business whatsoever with an annoying, childish hay-haired nuisance like you. And what's up with that ugly snake you've got wrapped around your neck?"

That's it. I immediately stand up with fire in my eyes, making the boat sway, and point a tense index finger a couple of centimetres from his supercilious nose. "Don't you _dare_ insult Granny's scarf in front of me, you peanut-butter-jelly-brained retarded raccoon!" I spit furiously. The raccoon's eyebrow twitches. "… Raccoon…?!"

He stands up as well and the boat sways heavily. His thin and pale figure makes him look not so dangerous at distance, but now that he's standing right in front of me, he appears to be quite tall, taller than me, and somewhat muscular. Not that it matters to me, since I'm – almost – just as tall and muscular myself.

"You want a fight or what?! Because I'm not holding back just because you're a girl!" Draco spits angrily.

"Bring it, be-ach!" I retort furiously and raise my eyebrows.

"And you're an American as well." He continues in dismay, and I widen my eyes.

"Hey! We Americans are a proud people!" I exclaim.

"You're just a spoiled brat."

"I'd rather be a spoiled brat than a spoiled raccoon!" I retort, and Draco's face darkens, and he surely would've made an effort to throw me overboard if not one of our boat-companions grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"What are you two _doing?!" _the boy exclaims. "_Sit down! _The boat will fall over!"

That's when I notice that the boat is swaying dangerously and that a part of the bottom is filled with water.

"_Sit down!" _the boy repeats. I wait until Draco sits down until I do so myself.

"God, what kind of a moron stands up in a boat?" Draco mutters.

"Hey, Albino! You stood up too!" I exclaim.

He just turns his head away and refuses to nor talk nor look at me.

We sit in silence for a while, when suddenly the giant-like beardy man named Hagrid, who's got an entire boat for himself, roars that we're closing in on the school.

The next second I stare up at a huge cliff with a huge black castle with lots of towers and turrets. "Oh… my… god…" I gasp. "Is that…?"

"It's Hogwarts, obviously." Draco finishes for me.

_Well, I wasn't asking you, lump. _

Gasps and sounds of exclamations come from the other boats now, as we approach the cliff. I'm gripping and fingering the railing now, and I lean over it just to see the castle, and I almost fall into the water.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled, and I notice that we're going straight toward the cliff, and no matter how much I narrow my eyes to see, I can't find any sign of a shore. "Looks like he's gonna drown us." I comment as the cliff closes in.

"Get down, you moron!" Draco suddenly hisses, grabs me by my scarf and pulls me down unnecessarily harshly. "_Ouch! _What are you…?" I trail off when I see that everyone have bent their heads, and when I feel something crawly on my neck I peer forward and see that the boats are carrying us through a curtain of ivy which is hiding a wide opening in the cliff face. It was rather low, though, and I see why we were supposed to bend our heads. _Lucky me that Albino noticed,_ I think as I rub my elbow that I hurt when I slammed into the bottom of the boat.

The small boats glide through the tunnel that seems to take us right underneath the castle, until we reach an underground harbour.

We clambered out on slippery rocks and pebbles – I trip and curse several times – and then Hagrid leads us through a passageway, we clamber upwards and end up in the shadow of the castle in front of a huge, oak front door.

_Oh, gooooooood, what's gonna happen, what's gonna happen what's gonna happen what's gonna happen what's gonna happen?! _My feet were practically dancing by now, and no one says a single word as Hagrid raises his huge hairy fist and knocks on the castle door to Hogwarts.

* * *

**Chapter two done! Good? Bad? Lame? Boring? Pineapple? Please review and tell me what you think! **


	3. Tyrant Teacher

Everything that happened after I entered the school was probably the greatest moments of my life. All the alive, moving paintings, the huge corridors, the ghosts (HAH! I _knew _ghosts exist!) and the teachers, everything was a totally remarkable experience.

The Sorting had been awesome. I had practically bitten my nails off when the _oh my god that AWESOME hat _finally called for me, and I was put in – bam – GRYFFINDOR! I didn't really know which one I was hoping to end up in, but I feel really pleased with myself as I now lie on an incredibly fluffy and comfy red carpet with cute little golden patterns, in front of a flaming hot fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. I'm actually glad that I ended up in the same house as Harry, Ron and a couple of other students that seem really nice. To be honest, I'm not very good at making friends, so I kind of thought that I would be a hopeless case in this school, but maybe not this time?

I also happened to notice, that for the first time, I am not the only person with an odd last name. I absolutely _adore _the people of this school's names: Bones, Boot, Brockleburst, Bulstrode, Finch-Fletchley, Longbottom, MacDougal; they're all great, love 'em. And the Headmaster, Dumbledore, his words of wisdom inspired me beyond limits, and I don't understand how Harry could've asked Ron's older brother if the professor was mad! "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Those four words are forever printed into my mind. Genius, simply genius.

The other new Gryffindors had been running up and down the stairs to their dormitories and all over the common room – which is why I haven't been to the girls' dormitory yet, it was simply too crowded – but now it is completely quiet in this room. The only audible noise is the sparkling flames emerging from the fireplace. I'm already very sleepy, and I feel like I'm dozing off now.

I think I see Harry walking down the staircase, telling me that Ron asked him to get something down here, and I'm just about to ask him if he'd had any of the physalis doughnuts that were served at the dinner table, but I don't make it before I fall asleep.

* * *

"Jack… Jack…" _Yeah, hey hey…_

"Jack. Jack!"

_Just a couple of minutes…_

"Jack."

_Maybe an hour…_

"Jackie."

_Or two… or three…_

"Jack!"

_I'll be right up… five hours, max…_

"JACQUELINE!"

The kick in my ribs sends a wave of pain through my body and I spin around and open my eyes in a flash. "OW! What the hell are you doin', I'm sleepin', ya know…" I finish with a yawn as I go back to being drowsy as I look up at Ron's face. "Hi."

"Yeah, hi hi." Ron replies and makes an extremely ugly imitation of me. "I just happened to walk by on my way to class with Harry, and we happened to find you here, so we thought we might wake you."

"Yeah, that's nice, but I was kinda sleepin', and you know it means bad luck to – _hick, _sorry – wake a sleeping person."

"You realize you've been sleeping on the floor?"

"Yes, I sure do, of course."

"That's crazy."

"It's logic."

"How?"

"I was sleepy." I grin at him. He doesn't look like he's judging me because of my hangover of drowsiness, because he just rolls his eyes and then returns my grin and lends me a hand, which I take, and he helps me up.

"Thanks, Ron, you're a good human being, and you too." I wave at Harry who is waiting by the door, "… Oh, yeah, class!" I slap my forehead. "Just gimme a sec, I'll be right here, don't move, don't talk, don't dance, don't do anything!" I call back as I race up the stairs into the girls dormitory which is now completely empty, I tear open my trunk and dig around until I pull up my wand and race back down to Harry and Ron, pant a little, and then adjust my collar just to remember that I forgot about the school uniform, I race back, change to the tight and inelastic clothes in a flash and hop back to my incredibly patient comrades while I adjust one of my socks that I haven't fully pulled up to my knees, and I exhale some stinky breath at them before I straighten myself, raise my fist into the air and exclaim: "Alright, let's do it! To Narnia!" and we set off in a rather hurried pace since we're about to be late for class.

_Oh shit shit shit, how long have I been asleep? What time is it? When does the lesson start? What day is it anyway? What do we have? Hang on…_

"Wait!" I suddenly exclaim in a horrific tone and I stop dead.

"What's wrong?" Harry pants as he and Ron stops as well and stares at me.

"Did I miss breakfast?"

"_Bloody hell! _Just _come on!" _Ron exclaims in frustration and grabs my arm.

"Hey, maybe I'm hungry! What happened to 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day'?!"

"Just, never mind that now!"

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap_

"What did you have?"

"Does it matter now?"

"… Well no."

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap_

"… But what did you have?"

"Porridge with honey."

"Aww, _noo!"_

"Shush, you two! We're here!" Harry hisses as we – without getting lost, for probably the first time – approach our classroom.

"Holy, we actually made it here without getting lost!" I exclaim proudly as Harry pulls me inside. _"We should get a diploma."_

Ron covers my mouth as we enter the dungeons where Professor Snape has already started his Potions class, and the whole classroom falls silent when the professor slowly crosses his arms and gives us a cold glare. "I see. Three students incapable of being on time. Three _Gryffindor_ students. Not that I'm surprised." He adds coolly, and sniggering emerges from the Slytherins behind their hands. "Five points taken from Gryffindor."

And I already dislike the Potions Master.

Everyone's eyes are set on us as we – as quietly as possible – slink to our seats.

Jeez. "Ok, we get it! We were late, so what? You can stop staring!" I exclaim as I fold out my arms in the air and glare back at the others.

"Students who are late are interrupting the introduction of the class and shall thereby be quiet." Snape says warningly. "So if you don't want your house to loose further points, then I suggest you keep your mouth closed, Miss Chenoweth." He cast a swift glance at the register he was holding, to catch my name. I mutter to myself as I shift to a comfortable position in my chair.

Apparently Snape was in the middle of taking the register, and just like most of the previous teachers, he pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes." He says softly. "Harry Potter, our new – _celebrity."_

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle start sniggering more, and now gasp in mock admiration. Snape put away the register and looked up at the class with cold and dark eyes. Spooky.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making, and …. …." Snape's little speech is full of complex words that I have never heard and will probably never learn, and I become drowsy after a while and start daydreaming. I must look pretty much like a zombie mutant where I sit with my head resting on my fist, my mouth gaping and my half-opened eyes staring into nothingness.

I caught something about "dunderheads" from Snape's mouth, and I snapped out of my trance when Snape suddenly called out: "Potter!" and everyone turned to Harry. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_A powdered what of what to a what of what? _"Weed?" I suggest to myself, hopefully Snape doesn't hear me. And poor Harry looks even more bewildered than I do.

"I don't know, sir." He says.

Hermione seems to know, though, because she stretches her hand as high into the air as it would go without her flying away; Snape ignores her.

And the following five minutes, Snape tortures Harry with a couple of absurd questions that Harry doesn't know the answers to, and Malfoy and his highly irritating friends shake with laughter. _God, won't they shut up? Stupid worms… _and the whole situation ends up very awkward. Snape is not very nice to Harry.

Then the professor orders us to copy down a few things he said, and while the students quills and parchments make scratching noises, Snape said over the noise: "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter." _The heck?!_

"Hey, wait a sec!" I exclaim furiously. "Harry didn't say or do any—"

"Two points."

"_What the f—?!"_

"_SSShhhhh!" _Ron hisses across the room at me. "_You're making it worse!"_

I clench my fists and prevent myself from slamming them into the desk, bite my lip and keep my mouth shut. I also prevent myself from flipping off the ugly Slytherin pugs that keep laughing their asses off behind me.

Again, Snape is not very nice to Harry. Probably not to any of the other Gryffindors either. And beneath all of my temporary flaming frustration in my boiling belly, I probably wonder why that is.

* * *

**Third chapter! Please tell me what you think, and if you want me to add/change anything! Also, I haven't actually come to a conclusion whether this is going to be a Draco/OC romance, so please tell me what you think about that too. Love ya, have a nice day 3**


	4. The Remembrall's Legacy

**So, the fourth chapter, hope you enjoy!**

**One thing: I don't mind criticizing comments, but I don't like it when you simply say: "Oh my god this is the worst piece of crap I've read in my entire life" without telling me what's actually so wrong with the story. So please, you're welcome to post "negative" comments as much as you want, as long as they are criticizing. **

**Thank you!**

* * *

The rest of the day really sucked. I _know _that it was wrong of me to bitch at Snape, but when he blamed _Harry _for Neville Longbottom's failure and took another point from Gryffindor, it just got too unfair for me to just stand by and pretend that it was raining. Which ended up with me getting kicked out of the classroom, detention _and _yet another five points from Gryffindor, which probably made most of my housemates hate me. So not only did I have to sit for one and a half hour and listen to Snape's lecturing and extra-homework-giving and ordering me around while I was cleaning the potion shelves, but I also missed the History of Magic lesson that I was _kinda _looking forward too since I'm not that good at history… or any subject at all.

Now, at three-thirty, when I'm finally done with the shelves, I stumble out of the classroom, dragging my feet behind.

"Jack!"

I lift my head and see Harry and Ron coming to meet me, and I cheer up a bit.

"I'm sorry that you got detention because of me." Harry says as they stop in front of me, and he looks guilty. Why does he? I'm the one who thought myself that Snape was an unfair asshole, he shouldn't feel guilt for my sake.

"Don't worry about that, look what I found!" I disgard and happily hold up a little shiny rock that I found in between the shelves, obviously very fascinating, and for some reason Snape didn't seem to bother if I took it or not, so of course I did. "It is shaped just like a physalis!"

I love physalises.

"Uh… yeah, cool – but hey, don't forget what we have now!" Ron adds, and his face is suddenly glowing with excitement, which makes my nerves rumble. "Quidditch!"

_Holy crap, YEAY!_

"_Really?! _Oh my motherhumping god, AWESOME!" I exclaim enthusiastically and start jumping up and down before I grab my friends by their sleeves and set off towards a smooth lawn close to the Forbidden Forest, where we are gonna have the flying lesson.

I run faster as we approach the place – the others are already there, including the broomsticks – and the grass ripples under my feet as I make a very stylish move to stop myself from running straight into the teacher, Madam Hooch, and instead I run into the exact same person that I ran into in Diagon Alley.

_Thump._

"Whoosh! Hey, Albino." I greet politely as I try to get my hair out of my face so I will be able to see something, and the short-tempered sociopath reacts just as he did the last time.

"What is your problem?! Get off me, you stupid American!" he spits and pushes me away, unnecessarily harsh.

_What is _my _problem? Take a look at yourself first. Dick. _

When I look around I notice several other Slytherins, and I suppose we'll be having the lesson together with them. Not that it really matters to me at the moment, since I'm way too excited right now. Ron and Harry don't look too happy, though.

Madam Hooch clears her throat and I look her way instead.

"Alright, everyone stand by a broom!" she barks, and I obey. I pick one with a funny odd-coloured spot on one side of the handle, and it has really fuzzy twigs.

"Come on, chop chop! Now stick out your right hand over your broom," Madame Hooch continues. "and say 'Up!'"

_Really? Oh, like a dog. _I clear my throat and look down at my broom and smile gently. "Up!" I say loudly.

It doesn't move.

"Up!" I repeat.

It starts moving a little, but nothing else.

"Up!" I order.

Same reaction.

I look down on the broom intensively and cock an eyebrow at it. Then my eyebrows sink into a frown as I try to think.

"Alright, I get it. You don't know me, we've just met. I understand exactly how you feel." I start talking nicely to the broom. "Maybe you're afraid of heights? You know, I am afraid of heights too! Haha! Wow, maybe you and I have a lot in common… even the twigs." I add to myself and pull my finger through my hay-hair. "But that's alright. Come on now, I bet you wanna fly after all? I promise you can trust me, I'm _aaaall _yours."

Annoying Albino Boy Nr. 1 and his companions interferes with their mock sniggering.

"What are you doing? Are you _talking _to your broom? What are you, paranoid? That is never gonna work, stupid!" Malfoy laughs meanly.

"She's so crazy that she thinks the broom is her pet!" the pug-faced Slytherin girl Pansy Parkinson – who always sticks by Malfoy's side – teases.

"Fuck off, I'm not talking to you." I snarl back. "If I want your opinion I'll ask Albino."

Pug-Pans face turns red and she looks furiously at me, but she quickly grasps a hold of her temper and tries to laugh off the embarrassment.

_Ha. _I ignore them and sink to my knees and pat the broom gently across the wooden handle. "Never mind them, their IQ are lower than that of a drug abused slug. Now be a good boy and please hop up into my hand now. Come on, now…" I continue to talk nicely.

I rise, stick out my hand over the broom to give it a second chance. "Alright, then." I say and clear my throat. "Up!"

And the broom takes a swift leap up into my hand.

"_Goood booy!" _I exclaim proudly and finish with a little laughter. "That was great! You're such a good boy! Or are you a girl? Whatever, good broom, _good broom!" _I praise my broom happily.

All the students that sent me disturbing glances – most of them did – seem to acknowledge that maybe I'm not paranoid to 100%. I tilt my head backwards and stick out a long tongue at Malfoy and his friends. "What's never gonna work?" I tease as I wriggle my tongue at Malfoy. He clenches his fists and says nothing. The others look angry and disgusted, but they simply snort and pretend as if it was nothing.

I just happen to notice that I haven't paid any attention at all to how Harry or Ron are doing, so I immediately scan the area to find them. But just as I catch a glimpse of Ron's red head, Madam Hooch shouts at us all to line up, and so we do. She then shows us how to mount our brooms and walks up and down the rows to correct our grips – it seems I hold it completely wrong – and then, _oh my god YAY, _she tells us to prepare for a slight flight. Slight flight, get it? It rhymes. I know, that's lame.

"Alright, now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off hard from the ground." Madam Hooch says. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle…"

But before our teacher has the chance to blow the whistle, Neville has already taken off, right up into the air. The thing is that he doesn't stop at "a few feet", but he keeps rising higher and higher, until he lets out a faint gasp and falls off the broom. With a nasty crack, he lands on the ground, and Madam Hooch is by his side in an instant, looking utterly terrified.

She mutters something that I don't catch, but hopefully Neville isn't dying, at least, and she helps him up before she turns to us with a strict face.

"Alright, listen. I will be taking Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing, and if _any _of you as much as touch your brooms, you will be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'" she says warningly, and then hobbles of with poor Neville, whose face is as white as chalk.

Just as they are out of earshot, Malfoy bursts into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherin asses joined in, and I start to get moody.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" snaps Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, what's this? Sticking up for Longbottom, eh? Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry babies, Parvati." Says Pug-Pan.

"And I always thought that people who are ugly on the outside are pretty on the inside, but clearly that was a miscalculation too." I say coolly.

Parkinson immediately stops laughing, and her face turns dark. The bitch. And for some reason, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle don't look very cocky anymore either.

"Bloody hell…" Ron mutters a few meters behind me.

Malfoy gives me a cold glare, and I glare back, 'cuz there's no way that I'm backing down now. My fists are already clenched, and I don't move a muscle. For a second, I almost thought that Malfoy was gonna attack me, but instead he suddenly darted sideways and snatched something out of the grass.

"Look here what I found." He sniggers. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

I feel my head heat up and blood starts pounding in my ears. The little fuck stole the Remembrall from Neville, and it was a gift! A gift from his Granny!

I am just about to make a move, when Harry speaks: "Give that here, Malfoy."

I stop. Everything turns silent. Everyone listens.

"If you want it," Malfoy replies nastily and mounts his broom. "then come and get it!" and he takes off.

The little snot took off! Harry takes action before I do and flies off as well. Now they circle around each other in the air as a pair of bloodthirsty hounds.

"Give it here, or I'll knock you off that broom!" Harry calls.

"Oh yeah?" Malfoy sneers. "Catch it if you can, then!" and he throws the glas ball high into the air.

Harry acts immediately and races the ball. As if in slow motion, he dives and stretches out his hand to grab the now-falling-speedily ball, but since he is all focused at the Remembrall, he doesn't see that Malfoy is gathering speed and is coming _towards _him, and he doesn't seem to be up to something pleasant.

_Like hell you will_. Everything happens fast; in a flash I grab my broom as firmly as I can at the moment, and I kick off as hard as possible and dart straight towards Malfoy, who is flying towards Harry at full speed – he is _so _close to the ball my now –, Malfoy flies towards him at full speed, I fly towards him at full speed, my hair dances and the wind whistles in my ears, and just as Malfoy is about to get close enough to Harry to do whatever he is planning to do, I fly straight into him with a gasp and a thud, and we both get thrown off our brooms, fall onto the ground and roll and roll and roll for what feels like hundreds of meters.

I think some of the audince are letting out terrified gasps and shocked noises, but most of them seem to be clapping and cheering – my head is spinning and I think I'm not turned their way – so I suppose, and hope, that Harry caught the ball. I try to lift my fist into the air and roar a victory call, but my body hurts and I'm still too dizzy. And on top of that, before I get the chance to do anything at all, a familiar and loud and furious voice yells: "HARRY POTTER!"

As I turn my head around, I see Professor McGonagall hurry over to Harry with a strict face. She was speechless with shock and her glasses flashed furiously as she said something not audible to Harry. Then Ron and Parvati and some of the others started arguing about that it was not Harry's fault, but McGonagall silenced them. Then she ordered Harry to come with her, and they left.

… _Well, I'm just lying here, then…_ but not long after that, I hear running footsteps and Ron calling my name, and the next second he is kneeling beside me.

"Are you alright?!" he asks, looking worried. "Bloody hell, you crazy person! Did you break anything?"

I shake my head slowly. "No worries," I mutter, but it _does _hurt. Maybe I broke my neck, and I'll now have to have a transplanted zombie head instead?

"You're almost worse than my siblings…" Ron mutters as he grabs my arms and pulls me up. "But I'm glad you did that." He adds as he casts a nasty look at Malfoy, who is surrounded by a terrified Pug-Pan and Grabbe and Goyle and a lot of other Slytherins.

"Hope he gets expelled." Ron mutters.

"He'll be fine. Snape's got his back." I reply as I observe Malfoy's companions lift him up and start moving towards the castle.

"But what about you?" Ron asks.

"Oh, yeah, me… I'm screwed."

We watch Malfoy limp out of sight, and the other students start moving as well.

"I wonder what happened to Harry, though…" I say and look in the castle's direction.

I cast a glance at Ron, and then we set off towards the castle along with everyone else.

* * *

"Harry!"

We come running in the corridor when we see him standing outside Professor McGonagall's office, along with a tall, burly fifth-year boy, and they looked _happy. _Do you usually look happy when you're punished?

We slow down and join them, exhausted from the run to the castle. I prepare myself for the bad news, but weirdly, I find out something entirely different.

"_You're the new Seeker for Gryffindor?!" _I blurt out, gaping. "Really, Harry?!"

"Yeah!" he answers happily, and he looks just as shocked himself.

"Holy motherfucking piece of shit! Excuse my language, but _oh my god!" _I exclaim.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron exclaims in shock and admiration, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but McGonagall interrupts.

"Yes, yes, it's quite unusual," _What the hell do you mean "unusual"? It's never happened before! _", but Harry really deserved it, the way he caught that Remembrall." She says and gives Harry a rare smile. The fifth-year looks just as happy, and I assume he's some sort of Quidditch player as well.

"No shit," I just say, still very impressed and happy for my friend's sake. "That's just…. Awesome, Harry."

We're just about to leave when Professor McGonagall speaks again: "Oh, and Miss Chenoweth?"

"Yeah?"

"You have detention."


End file.
